A Tale of Two Tyrants
by WinterSky
Summary: Having finally killed Albus Dumbledore and conquered the ministry of magic, Lord Voldemort decides it's time to rule the muggle world. One problem: there's already somebody ruling it. A Left Behind/Harry Potter crossover.
1. Chapter 1

Lord Voldemort was on his way to visit the muggle prime minister.

Usually, he did not concern himself with muggle affairs. Muggles only had one use, Lord Voldemort was fond of saying, and that was providing him with the amusement of watching them suffer.

Actually, they had two uses. He quite enjoyed muggle music, especially that new girl group called "The Spice Girls." For a while, he had insisted on calling Nagini "Slither Spice"—at least until Slither Spice had informed him in a series of angry hisses that if he called her that one more time she would throw herself headfirst into the fireplace, and he would have to find himself a new horcrux.

For a giant snake, Nagini could be a real bitch sometimes.

Yet even the Spice Girls had not interested him much lately. He had just succeeded in taking over the ministry of magic, and he had much more important things to think about. Finding the Elder Wand, for instance. Or killing Harry Potter. Or how hot Bellatrix had looked in that tight black bustier last week … no, no, definitely killing Harry Potter. That was his top priority. Muggles and their affairs should have to wait.

But earlier that day, when the Death Eaters had gathered at Malfoy Manor for their biweekly Death Eater Conference, Lucius Malfoy had said something interesting.

The meeting had started out normally enough. Voldemort had talked about all of the people he hoped to kill that week. Nagini had slithered across the stone floor and made Wormtail scream like a little girl when she nipped playfully at his feet. Fenrir Greyback had asked if he could eat some of Voledmort's victims, Severus Snape had tentatively suggested that perhaps he didn't need to kill _quite_ so many victims, really, two or three a week would suffice, maybe one, or maybe none at all, and Bellatrix had shushed Severus and breathlessly insisted to Voldmort that if there were any way she could aid him, any way at all, only say the word and she would slaughter millions out of love for him etc., etc.

Voldemort had silenced them all with a deadly glare. He had just been thinking about how useful deadly glares are, and how, now that he had a body again, he really _should _glare more often, when Lucius Malfoy spoke up.

"M- my Lord," said Malfoy, "forgive me for interrupting, but there is something I thought you ought to know. I have worked at the Ministry of Magic for years, and it's traditional that whenever there is a new Minister of Magic, they alert the muggle prime minister."

"Are you suggesting," Voldemort sneered, "that _I _should alert the muggle prime minister? That I should speak to a muggle? And not kill him afterwards?" The table of Death Eaters laughed. "How quaint. I think the Ministry's traditions are quite unnecessary given the times we live in. Don't you agree?"

"Yes, yes," said Malfoy, quavering as he spoke, "I only thought, My Lord, that as the muggles are cowering in fear of the supernatural you might want to reveal that it is _you _they are cowering in fear of. Instead of … someone else." He did not quite meet his master's eye when he said that.

"Someone else?" said Voldemort. "What do you mean by 'someone else'?" He laughed coldly. His followers quickly laughed too. "What do I have to be threatened by? What other wizard, Lucius, could possibly rival my power?"

"Not a wizard," said Malfoy. From a folder, he withdrew a muggle newspaper, its ink fresh, pictures unmoving. "Draco stole it at the end of last year from the Mudblood Granger. Thought you might find it interesting."

Voldemort snatched the paper of out of Lucius' hands. The headline on the front page blared "ARE THESE DISASTERS SIGNS FROM GOD? An Article by the Greatest Investigative Reporter of All Times Buck Williams." Voldemort merely chuckled.

"So I collapse a few bridges, murder a few families, and they claim it is a sign from their muggle deity?" said Voldemort coolly. "How naïve."

"The problem, My Lord," said Narcissa Malfoy, speaking for the first time. "is that the article isn't referring to anything you've done. It's referring to a new disaster. Muggles disappeared into thin air."

"Are you sure they didn't just disapparate?"

"There were far too many of them, and they were mostly muggle children," said Lucius. He pointed to the article. "_All _of the muggle children disappeared simultaneously."

"A very strong piece of magic," said Narcissa. "It threw the muggle world into a bit of chaos, as you might imagine."

"Why did you not bring this to my immediate attention?" said Voldmort. He was no longer smiling. What wizard alive had the kind of power to destroy all of the muggle children? Not even Grindelwald at his height could do something like that. Albus Dumbledore might have been strong enough, but he was dead. Voldemort had seen to that.

"We had hoped at first that it was yours, but when a few weeks went by without you mentioning it…"

Voldemort was silent. The air around him grew chilled. He watched as the Death Eaters at the table shifted uncomfortably in their seats.

"What wizard," Voldemort began in a low voice, "what insolent wizard has _dared _to try to outdo me? Do they not know that of which I am capable?"

"My Lord," Bellatrix gasped, her ample bosom heaving, "Such an outrage! Please allow me the _honor_ of finding and tearing the culprit limb from lim-"

"No!" snapped Voldemort. Not even Bellatrix's ample bosom could cheer him up right now. "I will deal with them myself! But first," he glared at Lucius, "I will pay a visit to the muggle Prime Minister. As you suggested." Before anyone could protest, he had disapparated in a whirl of black.

The Prime Minister was a squat man with a wide face, a nose that looked like a squashed potato, and thick head of brown hair that was clearly a tupee. He was typing on his computer and didn't look up when Voldemort arrived.

"Hello Muggle," said Voldemort darkly.

"Hello." The muggle looked up at him then and smiled, unconcerned, causing his broad face to grow even wider. "I suppose it's my turn now, is it?"

"What?" said Voldemort.

"To be taken," said the muggle.

"What in Merlin's name are you blabbering on about?" snapped Voldemort.

"You're not an alien?" said the muggle, a perplexed look coming over his face. "I'm sorry. I assumed you were an alien and that you'd taken the others and were coming back for the rest of us. It was the whole not-having-a-nose thing …"

"Now see here," roared Voldemort, "I am Lord Voldemort, the Most Powerful Dark Wizard of All Time! I don't know what wizard it was who made the others disappear, but, as soon as I gain the Elder Wand, what I can do to your world will make that seem like child's play! I already control the Ministry of Magic! Soon I will control the muggle world, and you and your weakling muggle followers will cower at my feet! You will learn to fear my very name! I will rule uncontested!"

The Prime Minister cleared his throat awkwardly. He wondered what a muggle was, but now didn't seem like the best time to ask. "That sounds like a fine plan. But you, uh… you might want to take it up with the ruler of the world first."

"What ruler? Your world doesn't have a ruler?"

"Sure we do," said the Prime Minister. "Secretary General Nicolae Carpathia. Ever since the disappearances, he's sort of run the place from New York. Haven't you been following the news?"

Bloody hell. Now he was going to have to talk to another muggle.

"I will speak with your muggle ruler," said Voldemort shortly. "Do not expect his rule to be very long." He started to go, then stopped. "And by the way, my nose is fine!"

The Prime Minister watched as the alien vanished into thin air. He calmly removed a bottle of brandy from one of his drawers, poured himself a glass, downed the glass, paused thoughtfully for a minute, then chugged the bottle. It had been one of those days.

_A/N - At some point during my deep and intellectual musings, I realized that both Lord Voldemort and Nicolae Carpathia rose to power in the summer of 1996. After that revelation, this story just had to be written. More chapters coming soon!_


	2. Chapter 2

"News from the Wizarding World!" announced Vivian Ivins, slapping an issue of the Quibbler onto Nicolae Carpathia's desk. "It looks like He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has taken over the Ministry of Magic!"

"Has he?" said Nicolae. He skimmed through the Quibbler, unconcerned. "It has only taken him, what, thirty years?"

"I wouldn't underestimate him," said Vivian cautiously. "Once he gains control of the wizarding world, he might try for the muggle one."

Vivian Ivins was what wizards called a squib, a person born into a wizarding family but without any magical abilities to show for it. She had tried to compensate for her inability to turn teacups into horned toads by learning to commune with the Spirit world and harnessing what little power she could from the Spirits. She had become quite good at divination, but it was a pale substitute for the kind of magic that real wizards could do. Her link to powerful members of wizarding communities had none-the-less proven to be quite a benefit for Nicolae. Not that he would ever let her know how important she was.

"Yes, woman, I know what he will _try _to do!" snapped Nicolae, throwing the Quibbler back at her. "What I want to know is why are you giving me this rubbish magazine? What happened to the Daily Prophet?" He picked up an ad that had fluttered out from between the pages and waved it in Vivian's face. "And what the hell is a nargle detector?"

"You-Know-Who has taken over the Daily Prophet!" whimpered Vivian. "It's not a reliable news source anymore. And a nargle is a mischevious creature that infects mistletoe-"

"Yes, thank you Vivian," Nicolae interrupted dismissively. "You may go." Vivian scooped up the Quibbler from his desk and hurried out of the office.

Even were it not for Vivian's background, Nicolae had become all too familiar with wizard-kind during his brief stint as President of Romania. On his first day, he was greeted in his office by a polite wizard in brilliant purple robes who had informed him that Romania was currently in the middle of a dragon crisis.

"But not to worry," said the wizard in purple robes cheerfully, before hopping into the fireplace and vanishing, "we're taking care of the matter. We've got Charlie Weasley on it, and he's one of the best dragon handlers in all of Europe." The wizard's words would have inspired slightly more confidence had his hat not been on fire at the time.

Nicolae had soon found himself at the center of a war between Dragon Rights Activists and the Anti-Dragon Protection Agencies, who argued over whether Romania's dragons were a national treasure that needed to be protected or a menace to society that needed to be eliminated. He was on the verge of ordering Leon Fortunato to have both groups killed when thankfully he had been propelled into his current position as Secretary-General of the UN, leaving his Vice President to deal with the dragon crisis.

Nicolae had, through Vivian, been hearing rumors that a villainous wizard from the past had recently returned to power, but he was hardly concerned. Whatever this Lord Voldy fellow tried to do, it was he, Nicolae, who would win in the end. The world was_ his_. His Master had guaranteed it.

The muggle world at least. Nicolae wouldn't get to rule the wizarding world. His Master had informed him of that almost at the beginning.

"The Enemy leaves them to their own devices," Lucifer had explained. "So I do too. Since they're wizards, their souls go to me anyways."

"That seems strange," Nicolae had said. "Was it not the Enemy that _made _them wizards?"

"Well, the way I heard it," said Lucifer, "—and, mind, this was through Beelzebub back when he and Gabriel were still on speaking terms—was that Pharoah hired a couple of wizards to compete against the miracles God was performing through Moses. There were only supposed to be three plagues of Egypt, but the wizards kept copying them. The Enemy was forced to keep adding new plagues to make himself seem more impressive. Eventually he got so annoyed with the wizards for trying to discredit him that he stopped speaking to wizard-kind completely."

"I might have a similar problem though." mused Nicolae. "If I perform wonders, the wizards will copy them. Will people not simply assume I am a wizard?"

"Ah!" said Lucifer. "But we have a card to play that they don't. Wizards can't raise the dead!"

"Great!" said Nicolae. "So we will raise the dead. That is genius. Who is going to die?"

And Lucifer had suddenly remembered a very important soul he had to rush off and steal, so Nicolae had never gotten an answer.


	3. Chapter 3

Nicolae examined the ad for the Nargle Detector (for only 5 extra galleons they'd even throw in a genuine photograph of a Crumple-Horned Snorkack!) before deciding that the offer was probably crap. He crinkled the paper and tossed it into the garbage.

Then he sat down at his desk with his back to the window, his fingers steepled beneath his chin. Whenever he sat like this, he liked to imagine himself a Bond villain, calculating his next step on the road to world domination. (Nicolae rarely got to do any calculating. Most of what was going to happen had already been foretold, and it was not easy plotting evil schemes around that.) He liked to imagine that one day the Enemy would burst through the door and he would say, "Ah, come in Mr. Christ. I have been expecting you," and he would press a button and a trap door would open beneath the Enemy's feet and he would plummet to his death. Nicolae had no such trap door, but maybe he should have one installed, just in case.

Or maybe Nicolae wouldn't kill the Enemy right away but capture him and chain him to a table where a giant pendulum would swing back and forth over his head, slowly descending, ready to chop him in half. And then the Enemy would say, "Do you expect me to talk?" and Nicolae would say, "No, Mr. Christ, I expect you to die."

Whenever he told his Master about these ideas, Lucifer told him to stop being an idiot, that the Enemy wasn't going to come bursting in through the office door. He had already outlined in that book of his that he was going to show up at the Valley of Megiddo in exactly seven years, and Nicolae had sure as hell better be ready to meet him there.

"Well, what if he arrives early?" Nicolae had argued.

"He's not going to arrive early," Lucifer had said.

"How do you know?"

"Because he always tells the truth."

"Does that not mean he is telling the truth about winning the battle at Megiddo too?"

Lucifer had told him to stop asking stupid questions or he'd find someone else to rule the world. And Nicolae had wanted more than anything to rule the world, so he'd shut up.

Nicolae blinked. He had been so caught up in his supervillanous plans that he had not noticed the appearance of a man in a black cloak in the middle of the room. Nicolae recognized the man immediately. The intruder was tall and skeletal with a pale white face and a nose that was conspicuously absent. The same face had appeared countless times on the cover of the "Daily Prophet."

Well, there was only one thing to do.

Nicolae steepled his fingers together beneath his chin. "Come in, Mr. Voldemort," he said. "I have been expecting you."

_A/N - This chapter was going to be much longer, but I really liked that ending, so I tacked the rest onto Chapter 4. For Slacktivites, I actually wrote this part back _before_ the discussion about Nicolae's intercom remote control (where commenters hypothesized that it was really a remote for a trap door since no one would have a remote for their intercom). I lolled a little bit at that conversation. In fact, in the next chapter I added a scene where Nicolae uses his intercom remote (alas it's just an intercom remote). _

_Also there will be spaghetti!_


End file.
